Monday, September 18, 2006

Jupiter

I've been waiting for you.Typical.You were a wind-up toy,diabolical indigestion.A soreI picked at until a sad brown scabfell to the floor.My mirrorfor a moment, reflectingcrisp cool weathered faceand sunset smile.Now you are a disgraceto my dignity.You'd pull up a chair to any plate,this horn aplenty.Your whores could wait.I hate that word, whore, the wayit lulls, fat flab of menopausal women.Stinking under the arms,trying to shineor burn.

I've been waiting for you,a rabbit's foot.You were ten dozen men tuckedinto one small corner of the world.A dioramaof my life, the little piecesrepresentinga girl, a chair, blue skies.But I am awake now.I no longer wait becauseseeing is believing